


what of the firefly, the one i love to chase?

by flustraaa



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Author Alec lightwood, Fashion Designer Magnus Bane, M/M, Malec fight, Secret Identity, poet alec lightwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:30:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21941197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flustraaa/pseuds/flustraaa
Summary: ‘love [him], but leave [him] wild’-atticus
Relationships: Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	what of the firefly, the one i love to chase?

**Author's Note:**

> based on the real Canadian author/poet atticus.

“Alexander, you will not believe what I got tickets to—“ Magnus chirps, toeing off his shoes at the door, tickets clapped in his ring clad fingers, “In my hands, I have a pair of VIP tickets to meet my favourite poet.”

Something stalls in Alec’s chest as he glances around the Christmas tree. Swallowing heard, he sets the final stand of lights against he tree before cocking his head to the side

“Oh yeah?” He manages around a weary smile, “When?”

“Christmas Eve, Alexander! Can you believe that Cassius is having a meet and greet in New York! I’ve been waiting for this since Seraph came out!” Magnus breaths out, waving the tickets in a vivacious nature that he’s been seeming to pack recently, “The love of my life and Cassius, together it one room!”

“I have...” Alec hesitates, pretending to fiddle with the lights, “I have a Christmas party for Izzy, I can’t Magnus—“

It’s in that moment, he watches Magnus shoulders deflate, and the spirit slips away again.

“Is that it, darling? A Christmas party? It seems like you have a lot going on recently.”

“Magnus,” Alec starts, taking a step foreword only to drop his hands, and soon his head. He inhales, closing his eyes and running his hands across his face, “I’m sorry. You’re right. But I can’t.”

“I think,” Magnus mutters, picking the scarf he’d set on the hanging wrack, “That I’m gonna go to my apartment. You come find me whenever you’re free.”

“Magnus—“

“ _Goodbye_ , Alexander.”

The door closes with a heavy, solemn thunk, and suddenly, Alec is alone once more. 

It’s the two days later, as Alec stands in his signature electric blue mask and black hoodie, hoarded of people lined for a signature that belongs to him—that he fears what’s to come.

People come and go, thanking him for his writing and how his twisting rhythm of words have brought them out of dark places, made them feel at home.

But it’s only as the last person in line comes up, sliding the hard copy that Alec had givenMagnus a month before it’s release that his heart thuds more than it had before.

“I almost missed it,” the man attacked to the electric blue nails whispers, “I was waiting on someone who I thought would come through, and he didn’t.”

It’s in that moment, swirling the the letters onto the page that Alec finally glances up, meeting Magnus’ eyes through the mask.

He watches as Magnus freezes, eyebrows furrowing as he realising how truly familiar the eyes behind the mask are.

“Alexander?” Magnus watches as Cassius’ eyes widen, rising to the messy pair of black converse Magnus knows like the back of his hand.

Cassius takes Magnus’ hand, leading him behind the back drop, glancing around for camera’s and unwelcome eyes before slipping the mask to the top of his hoodie.

“This is why you couldn’t come,” Magnus says slowly, and he can see the dots forming a picture in his head; much as Alec can hear cogs turning in his boyfriends brain. He continues, “This is why you keep disappearing, this is why—“

“Yes,” Alec states bluntly, “You need to lower your voice. I was Cassius before I met you, and I will remain Cassius with you. You need to speak softer, there are people waiting to hear me read poems about the men I loved before you and my future with you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier, I would have—“ he’s quickly cut off by his significant other. 

“I couldn’t tell you, until I was sure that you were the one. You know my history,” Alec gestures to the book hanging limply from his lovers fingertips, “And even then I always convinced myself otherwise. I’m sorry, Magnus.”

Cerulean eyes trace worriedly over bronze features, “I need to go, but everything will be okay. I love you.” 

And with a soft peck to the forehead, Magnus is left in the corner of a bookstore, forehead tingling with a forbidden kiss, and a silent pleading whisper of “i love you” traced on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> that was kinda trash but that happens sometimes


End file.
